But over the morning coffee Madame Valière objected that they might
win the whole hundred francs in a week!

It was true; it was heartbreaking.

Madame Dépine made a reckless reference to her brooch, but the
Princess had a gesture of horror. "And wear your heart on your shawl
when your friends come?" she exclaimed poetically. "Sooner my watch
shall go, since that at least is hidden in my bosom!"

"Heaven forbid!" ejaculated Madame Dépine. "But if you sold the other
things hidden in your bosom!"

"How do you mean?"

"The Royal Secrets."

The "Princess" blushed. "What are you thinking of?"

"The journalist below us tells me that gossip about the great sells
like Easter buns."

"He is truly below us," said Madame Valière, witheringly. "What! sell
one's memories! No, no; it would not be _convenable_. There are even
people living--"

"But nobody would know," urged Madame Dépine.

"One must carry the head high, even if it is not grey."